Washed Away
by BBC
Summary: A flood rips the prison group in half. Maggie, Daryl, and Carl are stranded on their own with few supplies and no weapons. Things are hard enough with the two adults injured but then Maggie reveals a secret that will change everything and their situation goes from bad to worse. Eventual Daryl/Maggie,
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own AMC's and Robert Kirkman's "The Walking Dead" or any of its characters/places. There may be a few OCs at a later time and those will be mine. (NO MARY SUES).

**WARNINGS: **Rated T for language, violence, gore, and sexual situations. Yes, I will be going there this time.

A/N: So I decided to try a little something new…let me know what you guys think.

* * *

"_NO!_"

"_Stop her!_"

"_Tyreese, grab Carol!_"

Tyreese saw the woman run by as the command to grab her was shouted. Carol rushed into the dark raging water and was nearly pulled off her feet. Tyreese threw himself in after her and grabbed her securely around her waist. The power of the current tugged at both of them and he had to fight to bring them back to the shore. His feet finally found the riverbank and he fell backwards bringing the sobbing Carol down on top of him. She struggled to free herself but Tyreese refused to relinquish his hold.

"We have to do something!" she cried wildly, seeking help from the remaining faces of her friends. "We can't—"

"They're gone Carol," said Michonne.

"_No_," growled Glenn, advancing on the woman. "I'm not going to believe that. They could have gotten out and we're going to look for them. They're still alive, I know it," he finished in a whisper.

"How? It's almost dark," sobbed Beth.

"They won't make it," added Sasha.

"We have to try," said Tyreese, reaffirming his hold on Carol who was no more than a moaning mess in his arms. "If anyone can make it, it's them."

Glenn and Tyreese exchanged an understanding nod before Glenn went to help stand Carol up. Both she and Tyreese were covered in mud and waterlogged like everyone except for Beth and Judith who had been brought across the swollen river first.

"Ok, let's regroup," said Glenn with authority in his voice. "There's not much we can do once the sun goes down. If we can't find immediate shelter we'll make camp up on that hill and start searching in the morning."

The survivors of the flood looked glumly but each acknowledged Glenn's orders in their own way. Tyreese and Michonne shouldered most of their remaining supplies leaving Glenn to comfort Beth though he himself needed consoling. Sasha held back to help Carol and make sure she was not going to throw herself back into the dangerous waters.

Glenn trudged wearily towards the hill they had been working towards right before their world fell apart. He quickly decided to abandon his idea to find another source of shelter and that the higher elevation would do fine for one night. Walkers didn't have much skill climbing and even so, they'd left that damn herd on the other side of the ill fated river. Besides, if any of them had managed to get out of the river, they'd try to come back to where they'd been separated and head for higher ground.

"Beth, let me see your backpack," said Glenn. Beth passed her bag over to her well, what was Glenn now that Maggie was gone? Tears welled up in Beth's eyes as she thought of her lost sister. She tried to remind herself that Maggie was only lost. She wasn't gone. She was still going to be out there somewhere and they were going to find her.

Glenn took the backpack and opened it. He clenched his jaw at its contents. Before their outing, Daryl had been the one to say they needed to put some matches and kindling away in a waterproof container so they could light a fire. He was always saving their asses.

The fire wasn't much but somehow, Tyreese managed to scrounge up enough dry wood to keep the flames stoked all night. Some of their final ratios of food were taken from Sasha's bag and they ate in a harsh silence.

"I'll take first watch," said Glenn as he finished. No one looked up to question him and he walked just beyond the reach of the firelight. He checked behind him once more and then pulled a hidden gun out from the waistband of his pants.

"Stay safe guys…we'll find you in the morning," whispered Glenn as he looked down on Rick's python.

* * *

The sinking sun cast just enough light over river to make out a few of its features. It had swelled beyond its banks hours before and consumed everything around it. The waters carried away logs, long abandoned cars, bodies of walkers, and some of the living.

Just above the swirling and churning waters, a pale arm was draped over a rock; life drained from it. The body it was attached to had lost its fight with the river and had been trapped in the rock outcropping.

Farther down river was a short clump of brown hair caught in the splintering hold of a tree branch and beyond that, the body of a young boy had washed up on the bank. Walkers were moving in on the poor soul and would devour it before midnight.

Following the flood even farther, a set of muddy tracks miraculously emerged from the river. They clawed at the bank where the person had struggled to pull themselves to safety. They tore up the underbrush but then stopped as the person gave in to temporary exhaustion and collapsed in a coughing fit on the ground.

A group of at least two hundred walkers were between that person and then the next area where it looked like someone else had climbed from the river. The place was torn up in the same manner but there was a definite difference. The second spot had footprints leading away from the water but also appeared to have drag marks.

Farther down the river still, three men approached it having spotted something washed upon the shore. They moved nearer using caution and one reached out with a long stick and prodded the unconscious man in his stomach. The man groaned but didn't growl. They had guessed it wasn't a walker: too fresh looking. The man suddenly hissed in pain and his hand curled around a leather vest with angel wings sewn onto the back.

Two of the three maneuvered the man farther out of the water and raised him to his feet. Each put one of his arms over their shoulders while the third searched the immediate area for any of his belongings.

"He's pretty bad off," said one of the men. "We better get him back to camp."

"Got some weight on him…probably was in a decent group. Think we should try to find them?" asked the second.

"No, we'll take him back to camp," said the third. "We'll see what _he_ wants to do with him."

* * *

A/N: So who is missing and who is dead? Those unaccounted for are Rick, Daryl, Maggie, Carl, Hershel, Karen and her son Noah just in case you were keeping track.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own AMC's and Robert Kirkman's "The Walking Dead" or any of its characters/places. There may be a few OCs at a later time and those will be mine. (NO MARY SUES).

**WARNINGS: **Rated T for language, violence, gore, and sexual situations.

* * *

They had left the prison with the goal of finding more food for the larger number of survivors they'd taken in from Woodbury. It was supposed to be nothing more than a few days on the road while they raided and ransacked for extra supplies. Rick almost aborted the mission when heavy rain moved into the area but when put to a group vote, the majority still wanted to go out in it.

The rain was unrelenting for a day and a night yet they pushed through it. They had reasonable luck until they decided to find a dry place to settle for the night. Unfortunately they never made it that far. Glenn hydroplaned in the truck he was driving and lost control. It crashed into a tree and although he, Maggie, Hershel, and Beth, were uninjured, the truck was destroyed. The convoy doubled back to pick them up and reload everything from the totaled vehicle into the remaining ones. In that time, a nearby herd of walkers heard the sound of the collision and were attracted to the area. The survivors fought them off the best they could but realized there were too many and were forced to retreat.

Rick took the first road out of there with the rest of the group following him. Road signs pointed towards a river and he prayed that the walkers might fall into the water rather than following them across the bridge. He didn't account for the possibility that the water had risen over the low bridge and they were now effectively sandwiched between the raging river and a herd of the undead.

The tires of Rick's truck skid as he stopped too quickly. Behind him, Daryl hardly had enough time to brake and ended up driving off road to avoid crashing into Rick. Everyone abandoned their vehicles and came together for a brief discussion on where to go next.

"We can try crossing it," said Carol.

"Don't know how deep it is," said Daryl. "No way to tell if there's even a bridge under all that water."

"Well our other option will be here in about a quarter mile," said Glenn as he looked behind him at the approaching herd.

"We can't fight them all," said Rick. "We'll use up too much ammo and it's getting dark. There's nothing worse than shooting a gun when you can't tell what you're shooting at."

"Don't wanna do that again," muttered Daryl. Rick heard him and his eyes flicked up to the side of Daryl's head that Andrea had once nearly taken off.

"Staying is not an option and I don't want to try driving through them. If we hit one too hard or get bogged down, there'd be no way to rescue those in the vehicle. We've got to try the river," Rick finally decided. "We've got four trucks and I'll take the lowest one and try driving across it first. If I can cross it in that, the rest of you should be able to too."

The other's thought Rick's logic was sound enough and Rick took over command of the smallest truck. Rick was accompanied by Judith and Carl and the three began to cross the flooded bridge. Tyreese, Sasha, Karen, and Noah were next in line. Glenn, Hershel, Maggie, and Beth waited behind Tyreese, with Daryl, Carol, and Michonne in the final truck.

Rick drove his car slowly down the very center of the road. He felt the river push against it and the engine spluttered but they made it. He drove farther up the road on the other side and looked back. Tyreese saw that Rick had made it safely across and followed in his wake.

"Our turn," Glenn announced and began to drive forward. He entered the water and immediately regretted the decision. Though he considered himself a good driver, he'd never taken his chances in water. In fact he wasn't the best swimmer and realized he probably should have brought that up at one point.

"Keep it steady," said Hershel from the backseat.

"_Got it_," whispered Glenn.

He absolutely hated how it felt like the water was the one in control of the truck. He took the bridge slower than Rick and Tyreese and soon heard a horn blare from behind him.

"There's walkers are on Daryl's truck—you need to drive faster so he can start," said Beth as she looked back. Glenn gave the truck a little more gas to get them some extra speed. They reached the halfway point when a log was carried onto the road and was hung up where they needed to be driving. Glenn was able to maneuver around when the front driver's side tire slipped into a hole that Rick and Tyreese had missed. The entire truck tilted sideways and the front was thrust far enough underwater that the engine stalled.

"Shit, shit, shit," cursed both Maggie and Glenn. Glenn turned the key over twice but the engine was dead.

"Stay calm," said Hershel. "Daryl will bring his truck over and we'll get into it."

Daryl was thinking along the same lines as Hershel and turned to drive next to them. From the bank, the adults got out of their cars to watch the others and go back in if they needed help.

Daryl drove as close to Glenn's truck as he could. "Michonne, Carol, ya stay here. I'm gonna put them in the back," he said. Daryl opened the door and looked down at the river rushing beneath him. How they were going to get a one legged man from one truck to the other was going to be a miracle. Daryl dropped into the thigh high water and was immediately swept off his feet. He hadn't anticipated its strength to be _that_ much and he struggled to regain his footing. He fought his way over to Glenn's truck and grabbed hold of the first door he came to. It was on the downstream side and he was able to open it. Beth was sitting in the seat and looked at him.

"We gotta get y'all out of here," said Daryl. "Glenn, Maggie, it's gonna take the three of us to get Hershel across. The water is stronger than ya think. Beth, I'm gonna carry ya then come back here."

"Ok," nodded Beth. Daryl opened his arms and she eased herself into them. He held her above the water and moved away from the truck. After five sluggish steps, something knocked into his leg and he was thrown off balance. Beth screamed as Daryl was forced to drop her but he immediately grabbed onto her arm to keep her from floating away.

"Shit," he swore and pulled her into him. Maggie and Glenn reacted and both sprung out of their truck. Neither was prepared for the force of the flood either and Maggie was pinned by the water to the side of the truck. Glenn ignored his fear and trudged over to Daryl. He helped both Daryl and Beth stand and aided them to the other truck. They got Beth inside and paused to catch their breath. "Get Maggie," huffed Daryl and he pointed.

Maggie was trying to get away from the stalled car but couldn't peel herself from the passenger side door. Her feet were beginning to slip out from under her and she clung to the mirror to steady herself. Glenn threw himself back towards her and Daryl lunged after him. From the bank, Rick and Tyreese put their vehicles in reverse to go back into the water.

"You have to stay in here," Rick said to Carl. "That water is too strong for you and you'll get swept away."

"Got it," said Carl.

Rick stopped driving and looked over at his son and baby. He undid his seat belt and leaned over to kiss Judith on her forehead. "Hold onto this for me," he said and unbuckled his holster. He then handed it over to Carl. Carl looked at it questioningly for a moment, unsure of what to do with the gun. "Won't need it out there, just weigh me down too…I'll be back in a minute," was the last thing he said and jumped into the water. Rick was nearly knocked off his feet like Daryl had been and Tyreese joined him. They made their way over to the first truck where Glenn, Maggie, and Daryl were waiting for them.

"Damn this current is strong," grumbled Tyreese. "How are we going to do this?"

"Glenn and Tyreese, you two take Maggie: Daryl and I will help Hershel," said Rick. "We need to get out of here."

Tyreese and Glenn each took one of Maggie's arms and guided her forward. Daryl pried open Hershel's door and kept his back against it so the water wouldn't press it closed. "Keep a hand on the door as long as you can," offered Rick. Hershel swung his leg over the edge of the seat and both Rick and Daryl helped him down. They weren't going to bother with the crutches and the men grabbed hold of Hershel to steady him.

"This ain't gonna work," said Daryl quickly. He could already tell Hershel wasn't going to be able to go against the water. They tried to get Hershel back into the truck but his one foot slipped and he fell. Rick and Daryl were brought down with him and were washed several feet in less than a second.

There was a slight ripple in the water and Rick realized they were about to washed against the side of the bridge. After that, they'd be swept away completely. He seized Hershel and flung an arm out and connected with Daryl's hand as he reached for him. "Daryl! Hang on!" Rick shouted above the flood.

Daryl searched for something to grab onto and finally found the guardrail of the bridge before they were swept over it. He lopped his free arm around it and held tight, his head barely above the water.

Rick worked to get a better grip on Daryl who was acting as their anchor. He let go for just a second and came up with a fistful of Daryl's shirt. Daryl was then able to use both hands to take hold of the railing. Rick looked up and saw Glenn fighting with Maggie and trying to get her to stay in the truck. He heard her scream and knew she was trying to get to her father. She tore away from Glenn and threw herself blindly into the water. Glenn had no choice but to go after her. Karen and Sasha emerged from the other truck and stumbled forward with Tyreese. He knew they shouldn't be trying to help them: He, Daryl, and Hershel were a lost cause.

Tyreese reached Daryl first and braced himself against the rail and helped hold him. "Get Rick and Hershel," Daryl coughed, "not gonna last much longer."

Glenn, Maggie, Karen, and Sasha joined Tyreese with Glenn and Maggie reaching out to pull Rick and Hershel back in. They weren't making very much progress and Karen decided to take her belt off. She tightened it around her wrist and then leaned over the rail so she could toss the other end to Hershel. Hershel let go of Rick and grabbed the belt with both hands. Karen smiled briefly before she was yanked over the guardrail by the combined force of Hershel and the water. All those who were able to shouted and Rick let go of Daryl in one last attempt at saving Hershel and Karen. Maggie broke from Glenn and abandoning all rationale thought, dove after her father.

From the safety of the vehicles, Noah and Carl saw their parents get swept away and jumped in the water. They started a half swim towards the adults and were quickly brought by them. Glenn tried to catch Carl but was too late and he and Noah were washed away in the flood.

Freed from the weight of Rick and Hershel, Tyreese was able to pull Daryl back over and onto the bridge. Daryl coughed and rubbed his aching shoulders while taking a quick inventory of those that were left. He knew Rick and Hershel were gone but was unaware that Karen went with them. One look at Glenn told him Maggie was gone and he was also certain he saw at least one boy in the water too. Whether it was Carl or Noah he couldn't say.

"Get everyone out of this water and to higher ground if ya can…yer in charge now Glenn," Daryl said and then jumped back into the water.

"DARYL NO!" yelled Glenn, his hand grabbing air as he tried in vain to stop Daryl.

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A/N: Sorry about the delayed update...action is getting started! Thanks for all the reviews/favs/follows so far :)


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own AMC's and Robert Kirkman's "The Walking Dead" or any of its characters/places. There may be a few OCs at a later time and those will be mine. (NO MARY SUES).

**WARNINGS: **Rated T for language, violence, gore, and sexual situations.

* * *

Daryl swam with all his might and soon caught sight of Rick, Maggie, and a clump of brown hair that was barely above the raging water. Rick and Maggie were hanging onto an uprooted tree in the middle of the river with a boy between them. Daryl allowed the current to take him towards the three to save his energy: Lord knew he was going to need it all.

"Daryl!" shouted Carl. Rick and Maggie turned to see Daryl being pushed into the tree near them.

"Hershel, Karen?" asked Daryl. Rick shook his head. "'K…we gotta get out of here…no tellin' how long these tree is gonna last for."

"Carl, you hold onto Maggie's belt. Daryl, you take Carl," said Rick as he wrapped his arm through Daryl's vest to connect the four of them. "We'll let the river take us and maybe there is a place where we can get out farther downstream, but no matter what, we have to stay together."

As one, they let go of the tree and allowed the water to carry them away. It pulled and pushed at them, threatening to pry them apart. Maggie and Rick were on the outside of their group and had to work the hardest at keeping them clear of debris while Daryl did what he could to keep them together. At every second, he felt like Carl was being ripped away from him and was thankfuhey he boy had a good grip on Maggie's belt so the two of them would at least be together if anything happened to him or Rick.

The four were washed farther downstream when suddenly they were forced to an abrupt stop by Daryl. Daryl was yanked underwater as his left leg was snagged on a sharp piece of metal from a mangled car. It dug into his flesh and he felt it rip open skin and sink into muscle. He groaned in pain and a stream of bubbles rippled from his mouth, but he didn't dare release Carl to check on it

At the surface, Maggie and Rick realized Daryl was caught on something and Rick reached down to help lift Daryl's head above the water. He wove his fingers into Daryl's hair and raised his head just enough so that he was allowed to breathe.

"_My_…_leg_…" he gasped and chocked as water rushed into his mouth. "Caught on…somethin'…"

Rick was struggling to keep Daryl's head up and finally lost the fight with the river. Daryl was able to grab half a breath of air before going back under. He tried not to panic and opened his eyes but the water was too murky to see what he was stuck on. He still held tight onto Carl with his right arm and raised him up as best he could to make sure the boy was above water.

He felt someone's hand back in his hair that was trying to lift him up but it wasn't working. The water was rising too fast and they didn't have the leverage against it. Daryl's lungs began to ache for oxygen and he panicked. He ignored the pain and kicked and twisted his leg, feeling the metal being driven in deeper. If he couldn't get himself free, he was going to drown. He summoned the last bit of air in his lungs and used it to jerk his knee up and into his chest. In one violent tug, the metal was pulled through his calf muscle and his leg came free.

His head above water, Daryl took a few shaky breaths. He heard someone call his name but he only had enough strength to concentrate on breathing. He was vaguely aware that Carl was pressed into his shoulder and that Rick had his arm looped through his vest.

"Daryl, are you ok?" asked Rick for the third time. He was growing concerned that Daryl wasn't answering him but he appeared to be breathing.

"'M ok…" Daryl panted at length. "Just caught my pants…pulled 'em free…"

It was a complete lie. He knew there was serious damage done to his leg but he didn't need to worry the others about it right then. Once they were out of the river and not about to drown, then they could deal with it.

Daryl's bad leg hung limply under him and he winced every time it was jostled or bumped into something. The unclean water stung as it seeped into the wound and spread a searing pain up and down his entire leg. He finally gave up fighting the river altogether and trusted Maggie and Rick to help keep him afloat.

Maggie knew something was wrong with Daryl and began to take Carl away from him. The boy, though light, was still a burden and an extra weight that Daryl could not afford.

"Carl, hold onto me," she said and reached for Daryl's belt so they wouldn't drift apart. Daryl released Carl to Maggie and was thankful he could now use both arms to help swim. It was hardly an improvement and Daryl found it drained him of the little energy he had left. He suspected part of his problem was blood loss and knew he'd be screwed if the metal had torn through an artery.

The troubled group bumped along, barely hanging on to one another. Daryl was flirting with consciousness and relied more and more upon Maggie and Rick. He thought about closing his eyes and letting sleep take him when they came to another stop, this time by Maggie. She slipped suddenly underwater as her feet became tangled in some unseen object. Daryl quickly grabbed onto her hand that was on his belt and followed it to her arm and held on with all he had left.

"She's caught on something!" Carl cried and thrashed at the surface.

"Let go of her so she can use her hands," said Rick. Fear immediately filled Carl's eyes and he shook his head. "Son, you have to. Daryl and I will make sure you don't get away."

Carl released himself from Maggie and the current pushed him into Daryl.

"Hang onto my neck," said Daryl. Carl wrapped his arms around Daryl's neck and faced his father, the two locking eyes.

Daryl quickly realized he was put into an impossible position. Maggie was holding onto him and because of that, she was also holding onto the combined weight of Daryl, Rick, and Carl as the water tried to drag them downstream. If she didn't have them holding her back, she might be able to get free. But if Daryl let go of her, they'd be separated and she'd be left on her own.

Looking around sharply, Daryl spotted a downed tree that reached into the raging river from the bank. Some of its branches were only six or so feet away and could be reached if they were able to swim upstream. Daryl knew the likelihood of swimming against such a strong current was out but there was a chance one of them could make it.

"Carl, get on my shoulders," ordered Daryl. The boy looked up at him with a deep, questioning gaze. "Damn it kid, when I tell ya to do somethin' do it."

"What-why?"

"Cause if ya can, ya can jump from my shoulders and maybe make it to that tree…if we get ya outta this water, I might be able to get Maggie free."

"Do it Carl," Rick said at once.

Carl nodded and struggled to climb onto Daryl. He dug his boots into Daryl's sides and Rick steadied him, giving him the extra boost he needed to get a little higher. Daryl was thrust underwater as Carl made it to his shoulders. He felt the boy shaking like crazy and then he was shoved roughly as Carl jumped. Coming back to the surface, Daryl saw Carl clinging to a tree branch that was thankfully thick enough to hold his weight and working his way to the bank.

One of them was safe.

Daryl put his attention back on Maggie who he could feel still struggling to get herself free. He knew she was running out of oxygen and he did the only thing he could think of. He didn't want to announce it because he knew Carl would freak and dive back into the water: he'd already jumped in after his father once, he'd do it again. Daryl drew in the deepest breath he could and dropped underwater. He let go of Maggie to raise his arms and slipped out of the vest that Rick was hanging to. He felt Rick's weight leave him and he reached back for Maggie. Finding her, he followed her arm to her body and then down to her legs. She continued to move about but Daryl realized her actions were extremely sluggish and she was almost spent.

Daryl clung to her and reached her feet and the mess they were caught in as her body went slack. His hands came into contact with some barbed wire and realized her boots and the bottom of her pants had been tangled in a fence. The barbs tore at his hands but he managed to rip them from her clothes and get the wire out from around her ankles. He pulled her in close and then brought them both to the surface.

Daryl took no pleasure in the air that filled his lungs and not Maggie's. She wasn't breathing and her head rolled against Daryl's shoulder.

"_Shit_," he swore and tapped against her cheek, "Maggie, Maggie…c'mon Maggie."

Daryl looked back at Carl, who had almost made it to the bank and then downstream: Rick was nowhere in sight. He was a strong man and had a better chance of surviving the river than anyone else at that point. It had been a shitty move to pull—letting go of Rick—but a necessary one if there was any chance at saving Maggie. Daryl looked downstream again and searched for anything to pull them from the river. He saw another tree like the one Carl had been able to climb out on and tried to make for it.

To Daryl, Maggie felt dead against him and he kicked as hard as he could with both legs and one arm to get them to the tree. His bad leg was numb with pain and he knew there'd be hell to pay once they were out of the water. Then for the first time, the river relented and the current brought Daryl and Maggie right up to the tree. Daryl hoisted Maggie over his shoulder as he grabbed hold of the first branch he could. He took another, and another and slowly began to pull himself towards the bank. He had to stop to readjust Maggie so she didn't fall back into the water but he continued to make decent progress

Daryl edged closer to the bank and at last, his tired feet found something solid to stand on. His injured leg buckled once it had to bear his weight and Daryl hobbled on his right and continued to use the tree to support him. The shore was only a few feet away and groaning heavily, Daryl heaved Maggie onto the muddy ground. He threw himself down after her and rolled her onto her back. Without thinking about it, Daryl put both his hands on the center of her chest and started to perform CPR. Hershel had once shown them how to do it on a walker corpse and though he paid attention, Daryl wouldn't consider himself anywhere near qualified to save a life.

"C'mon Maggie," he hissed and pressed down on her chest again and again. Daryl tried several more compressions and then took a deep breath. He pinched her nose closed, opened her mouth, and breathed into it. The air didn't really go in and Daryl figured there was water trapped in her throat. He sat her up and hit the center of her back with his flattened hand. Her body jerked with each strike and then gave a small spasm. Water trickled from her mouth and she coughed faintly.

"That's it Maggie," Daryl encouraged. He continued to hit her back until a larger cough racked her body and her airway was opened. She was thrown into a true coughing fit and Daryl began to rub her back soothingly. "Yer alright, try an take a breath when ya can. Yer alright," he repeated and stroked her back.

"Da—Daryl?" she was able to get out between coughs.

"Right...here."

Maggie took a few trembling breaths as she settled into Daryl's chest. She listened to his heartbeat and knew she was alive. She took comfort in its fast rhythm and she pressed herself against him. Even though she was soaked to the bone, and cold, she was thankful she could at least feel it. She felt his arms tighten around her and then went limp as he pulled away and fell to the ground. Somewhat startled by Daryl's sudden disappearance, Maggie opened her eyes and saw him laying back in the mud.

"Daryl?" she asked and gave his arm a shake. "Daryl?"

Daryl remained motionless and she gave him a more violent shake. When that didn't rouse him, her fingers crept to his neck and found his pulse. His heart rate was fast, and he was breathing, but something wasn't right. Maggie then remembered his leg had at one point been caught in the river. Though he had brushed it off at the time, Maggie quickly suspected it was a lot worse than he made it out to be.

She crawled down to his legs and immediately saw a large rip in the left side of his pants. She tore the fabric open more and recoiled at the mess before her. A gash about eight inches long ran down the side of Daryl's lower leg so deep that muscle and bone had been exposed. Blood ran freely from the wound and dripped off his leg and to the ground.

"_Maggie, Daryl_!"

Maggie looked over her shoulder and saw Carl running towards her. He was rather scratched up, but she couldn't be more thankful to see him alive as well.

"Have you seen—"

Carl stopped when he saw Daryl's leg.

"Help me," implored Maggie. Carl swallowed and knelt down next to Maggie. "His leg got caught on something—we need to stop the bleeding. Give me your belt."

Carl fumbled with his belt and removed it so that Maggie could secure it above the top part of the cut. She searched herself for a knife but came up empty and guessed it'd be stripped from her in the flood. Daryl still had his and she pulled it from his belt. She cut the bottom portion of Daryl's pants off to completely expose the wound, then removing her own shirt, Maggie wrapped it around Daryl's leg as a bandage.

"We have to…" Maggie coughed again and Carl laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "We have to find shelter and fix his leg," she said regaining her breath. "It's getting dark, we have to find something."

"There was a trailer home not too far from where I got out of the water," said Carl.

"Ok, we go there. Help me with him."

Carl and Maggie both stood and each took hold of one of Daryl's arms. They slowly began to drag him away from the water and to the trailer Carl had seen.

By the time they reached the landing of the house, Maggie was beat. Going no further, she dropped Daryl's arm and sank into the tall grass. Carl looked down at her then walked to the door of the house. He went inside and was gone for several minutes before coming back and announcing it was clear.

"Just a little farther," said Carl and Maggie nodded. "I'll get his arms if you take his legs."

Together, Maggie and Carl moved Daryl inside the house and lowered him onto the carpet. Maggie stumbled away from Daryl and fell blindly onto a couch. She heard Carl say something and felt his small hands on her before succumbing to exhaustion and passing out.

Carl swallowed hard and looked between the two adults. He had no idea what to do for Maggie and fixing Daryl's leg was going to be a shot in the dark for him. He shook both adults and called their names but neither so much as twitched.

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A/N: Phew! an update on both of my stories in less than a day. I deserve a raise! Haha. Anyways...Thank you for all the great reviews. I look forward to hearing what you guys think of this one.


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own AMC's and Robert Kirkman's "The Walking Dead" or any of its characters/places. There may be a few OCs at a later time and those will be mine. (NO MARY SUES).

**WARNINGS: **Rated T for language, violence, gore, and sexual situations.

* * *

Carl was utterly lost. Both Daryl and Maggie were deeply unconscious and despite his best efforts, neither could be roused. He knew things were bad with both of them and tried to think of what Hershel or someone would be doing in his place.

Daryl obviously needed medical attention first but Carl was afraid to do anything. He didn't want to touch Daryl and end up making his injury worse. But it couldn't be left untreated—not with the size of the gash he had. Every second his leg was laid open for only increased the likelihood of a fatal infection occurring.

Carl moved closer to Daryl and looked down on him. They'd seen plenty of gruesome injuries but it was different when they were on a living person. Carl looked away and went back to Maggie: He wasn't ready to deal with Daryl yet. She was still out and Carl picked her head up and slid a pillow under it. He figured that raising her head might help with the coughing she'd been having. It wasn't much but Carl pulled a dusty blanket over her and removed her boots and socks to make her a little more comfortable. When he was done, it was time to face the inevitable and work on Daryl.

He knelt next to Daryl and checked his breathing and pulse. They were both slow and uneven.

"Daryl?" asked Carl. "Can you hear me?"

Carl waited and sighed when Daryl didn't answer him. He looked back at Daryl's leg and tried to get a sense of how bad the bleeding was. He peeled back Maggie's shirt and immediately replaced it. He had seen the white of a bone and that was enough to churn his stomach.

"What do I do first?" Carl asked himself. What made sense? The river had been dirty and filled with all sorts of bacteria. He had to clean Daryl's leg or it'd certainly get infected. Then he could work on stitching it. Or wait for Maggie to wake up and she could do it. She was a girl: she should be good at sewing.

Carl stood and shivered. He was soaked and it only made sense to get into some dry clothes before attempting to do anything for Daryl: shaky hands would not work around a severe wound. He went to a bedroom and searched the closet for something his size or close to it. Most the clothes seemed to have been bought for a male about Daryl's size so there was little that fit Carl adequately. He finally settled on a t-shirt and drawstring pants that he was able to tighten enough to keep them from falling off his hips. Carl then went back to searching the trailer for anything that might be used to clean Daryl's wound. He jumped up on the counter to open the cabinets over the stove and came upon a rather large assortment of alcohol. It would be better than nothing. He pulled down six bottles in total: three of whiskey, two of vodka, and another that was clear and unmarked. He returned to Daryl and set them down. Carl wandered into the small bathroom and opened drawers trying to find some clean towels. He came away with a couple that seemed to be in good condition.

"Daryl?" he asked once more, dropping the towels next to the injured man. If he was about to pour alcohol on Daryl's leg, he wanted to make sure he wasn't going to wake up during it.

Daryl remained as he had been and Carl sat down. As gingerly as he could, Carl lifted Daryl's left leg and placed a towel under it. He untied Maggie's shirt and removed its bloody remains. Carl winced in sympathy for Daryl and the pain he had to of been in. It was time to stop lollygagging though and without thinking, Carl reached for a bottle of vodka, unscrewed it, and poured a generous amount over Daryl's leg. Once the alcohol came into contact with Daryl's ruined leg, his whole body jerked and he cried out in pain.

Daryl's eyes shot open as he yelled and thrashed on the floor.

"I'm sorry!" said Carl but Daryl didn't hear him. He reached wildly for the source of his pain and grabbed his leg. He cried again once his hands found the wound and Carl had to press them down against the floor. Daryl fought with Carl and knocked him away without knowing it. Carl's head hit the corner of a low table and his vision went out of focus. He saw Maggie's figure rise up off the couch and rush to him.

"Are you ok?" she asked and felt the back of Carl's head.

"I'm fine…Daryl…"

"Help me with him; he's going to hurt himself."

Carl crawled with Maggie to where Daryl was writhing in pain.

"Daryl, please calm down…you're going to make it worse," Maggie said gently and tried to hold him still. Carl put all his weight on Daryl's thigh so he wouldn't kick out and cause more damage to himself. They did what they could to comfort him and Daryl's fighting grew less and less while beads of sweat formed on his head and chest. Finally he relaxed and Maggie felt the muscles under her loosen. "Daryl?" she asked hesitantly.

"_Yeah_…" he rasped but his head rolled listlessly.

"We have to clean your leg…it's going to hurt."

Daryl nodded weakly and scrunched up his face as he waited for the pain.

"Stay on his leg," Maggie told Carl before taking the bottle of vodka in her hand. Maggie drew in a deep breath and drizzled the alcohol over the gash. Daryl's back arched and his fists clenched as he searched for a way to ground himself. He moaned severely but didn't cry out as he had done before. "Is it getting better?"

"Can't…can't feel much anymore," he said weakly.

"You have to stay with me." Maggie set the bottle down and gripped the side of Daryl's face to turn it towards her. "I know it hurts but—" Maggie stopped as a coughing fit overtook her and she struggled to find a breath. Carl let go of Daryl in order to pat her on the back. Maggie was able to regain control of herself but it left her with burning lungs.

"Ya….are ya…are ya ok?" Daryl tried to ask, his eyes fighting to stay open. "Ya swallowed water…swallowed too much…"

"I'll be ok," Maggie said and reached down to stroke Daryl's hair and reassure him. "We've got to get you fixed up."

"Go for it," said Daryl. "I ain't gonna be here much longer…ya do what ya gotta do."

Maggie smiled bravely as Daryl's pained filled eyes landed on her.

"This might help," she said and offered him the bottle of vodka. Daryl took one look at the clear liquid and turned away. "No? Would whiskey be better?"

"Much," he replied and Carl helped him to sit up some. Maggie selected a bottle of caramel colored liquid and raised it to Daryl's lips. He swallowed generously and sank back to the floor. "If I don't make it through the night—"

"You will," said both Maggie and Carl.

"We'll get you ready to hunt squirrels in no time," said Maggie.

"_Shit_," cursed Daryl. He sat up quickly and looked around him. "Gotta get us somethin' to eat…ain't gonna make it without food…"

"Stop," commanded Maggie. She was slightly concerned that Daryl would even think he was in any shape to be going hunting. He obviously didn't know how bad off he was. "It's almost dark…you can go out tomorrow. How does that sound?"

Daryl didn't answer her and he laid back down. He closed his eyes and his breathing evened out as he slipped unconscious.

"He's out…Carl, did you find anything to stitch this closed with?"

"I didn't get that far," said Carl. "I was hoping you'd be the one to do it."

_Of course_, thought Maggie dryly. It wasn't the boy's fault though and he'd done everything he could. From the moment she awoke from Daryl's cries, Maggie realized Carl had stepped up to help her and Daryl.

"Let's put him in a bed…he'll be more comfortable there since he won't be moving around for quite a while. Grab his ankles—"

Together, they moved Daryl to the one bed and set him down gently. Maggie frowned and ran her hand over his wet shirt. She went to the closet and looked through it for something that'd be easy enough to put him in. She came away with a pair of sweat pants similar to Carl's.

Carl already had Daryl's shirt off him by the time Maggie went back to the bed. He looked down hesitantly at Daryl's pants and shrugged.

"I'll do it," offered Maggie. "Just don't tell him it was me," she said with a tiny wink.

Carl stepped back as Maggie stripped Daryl bare. He handed her the pants and Maggie tried to get them on his legs but the action proved more difficult than she anticipated. She finally gave up and settled for covering his waist and chest with a sheet: he'd understand once he woke up.

Carl went back to the other room to retrieve the towels and the bottle of vodka in case they were needed. Maggie coughed again but didn't allow it to deter her from removing Carl's belt from Daryl's thigh where it acted as a tourniquet. Carl returned a moment later and Maggie took one of the towels from him and placed it so it'd catch any blood that dripped.

"We need to find a needle and thread or something…" said Maggie.

"Good luck: I think someone like Daryl used to live here. I don't think they did much sewing," said Carl.

"Then a clothes pin then…anything that's sharp like that."

Carl nodded and went to the bathroom while Maggie poked around the bedroom. She opened the bedside table and stared down at its contents. There was a box of condoms similar to the ones she and Glenn had first used. Her heart ached for him and she felt guilty for it was the first time she'd thought of him since being swept away. She didn't know how far the three of them had been washed nor what side of the river they'd come out on. She had no doubt Glenn would come looking for them, but she wasn't going to get her hopes up that'd he'd be at the door in the morning.

"I found this," said Carl causing Maggie to slam the drawer closed. She turned and saw Carl holding a small sewing kit.

Maggie swallowed her tears and nodded in approval. Carl gave her a strange look but didn't ask her if anything was bothering her. She sat down on the bed next to Daryl and opened the sewing kit. She tested the string and unfortunately it broke easily. She really wanted something that would hold up better but there was no other option. Daryl would just have to stay in bed longer to keep from ripping them.

"Carl, stay on his leg in case he wakes up again," said Maggie. Carl went back to holding Daryl's leg as Maggie doused her hands with the vodka and then threaded the needle. She turned Daryl's leg slightly and Carl held it in its new position. It was her first real glimpse of the damage that had been done and Maggie shut her eyes to temporarily block out the sight. Daryl's calf muscle had a piece missing from it and bone was visible from under the flap of skin. The muscle would grow back, in time, so the main thing was keeping it closed up and infection free. Maggie tenderly tugged the torn skin and aligned it together the best she could. She brought the needle to it and made the first stitch then stopped. Daryl didn't move and she slid the needle back through his skin. Again, Daryl remained motionless and more importantly, pain free.

Altogether, Maggie made twenty three stitches before tying off the last one and placing the needle back in the box. She wrapped one of the remaining towels around Daryl's leg and sat back. Not even a single gasp of pain had come from Daryl and it disturbed her to think he hadn't felt any of it. She reached and felt his neck and chest to gauge his temperature and was satisfied that it seemed normal enough.

"Now what?" asked Carl.

"We wait," sighed Maggie. "Why don't you go sleep on the couch? I'll stay up with him."

"You sure?"

Maggie nodded.

"I found some water and canned food in the kitchen if you get hungry," said Carl.

"Thank you," she smiled as he walked out. She heard him settle on the couch and was glad he would be able to rest.

Maggie moved slowly to the closet and picked out some dry clothes for herself. She turned her back to Daryl and dropped her trousers and stepped into a large fleece pair. She undid her bra and hung it on up to dry then slipped on a grey t-shirt. Going back to the bed, she laid down on her side next to Daryl to watch him sleep. She tried not to think of the others, like Rick and her father whose fates were unknown, but her final images of them were burned into her head. Glenn drifted into her mind every other second and she finally gave in and let the tears roll down her cheeks.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for everyone who has checked into the story so far! I hope you all enjoy it.


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own AMC's and Robert Kirkman's "The Walking Dead" or any of its characters/places. There may be a few OCs at a later time and those will be mine. (NO MARY SUES).

**WARNINGS: **Rated T for language, violence, gore, and sexual situations.

* * *

Michonne had taken the final shift on watch. There was nothing to concern her in the darkness. The remaining group made camp atop a hill that was steep enough that walkers would not be able to reach them. Their only fear would be if someone from the living spotted the campfire and came to investigate. Although, most were so exhausted that they had gone to bed without saying a word about it.

Michonne looked to their small fire and decided it was time to place another log on it. She picked up a piece of kindling and laid it on the dying flames. The new wood threw sparks and embers into the air and as they settled, Michonne heard rustling in the bushes on the outside of the camp. She turned slowly and drew her katana. The silver blade caught the light from the fire and was turned a deadly shade of red and orange. She advanced upon the noise and waited for it to come out of the trees. There was another noise and this time she was certain she heard footsteps stumbling up the hill. Michonne raised her sword and then quickly withdrew it as Karen fell into the clearing.

"Oh Michonne—" gasped Karen. "I'm so glad to see you."

"Are you ok?" asked Michonne. "You made it out of the water."

"Yes, yes I did," panted Karen from the ground.

"You're cold," noted Michonne. "Let's get you to the fire."

Karen nodded and Michonne helped pull her up by her arm. As they walked to the fire, Michonne kicked Glenn to get him up.

"What—what's wrong?" he asked, sitting straight up then his eyes fell upon Karen. "Oh Karen! You're alive!"

Glenn's cry roused the camp and had them up within an instant. They all surrounded Karen by and each gave her a hug.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you," she said and accepted a warm cup of water from Carol.

"You have no idea how happy _we_ are to see you," said Carol. "This means the others might still be alive."

"The others?" Karen asked slowly. "Who is missing?"

Karen quickly did a headcount and came up devastatingly short.

"Where's Noah? Where's my son?" she demanded.

"Um," said Glenn as he knelt beside her. Carol also sat next to Karen and took one of her hands. "Noah, Hershel, Daryl, Rick, Carl, and Maggie were all washed away with you: you're the first to return."

"No…no, no, no, no, no…not Noah. Not Noah…no…he can't…" sobbed Karen.

"He dove in after you," said Carol. "It was very brave of him."

"He can barely swim!" cried Karen.

"That doesn't mean he didn't get out," said Carol. "We're going to look for everyone as soon as it's light."

"That's right," said Glenn. "The sun will be up soon; we might as well start looking now. Let's start getting everything packed up and eat. Then we'll go back to the river."

Everyone dispersed at Glenn's command. Some went to gather their remaining belongings while the others took out the meager rations they had packed for such an emergency. It wasn't long before the sun crept above the horizon and the group found it was time to start the search.

Glenn and Michonne led the group back down to the river. Fortunately for them, the herd that had chased them there was nowhere in sight: they'd either all been swept away or somehow knew not to cross the river and been driven back.

"The water is lower," mumbled Michonne and Glenn nodded. "We can probably pull the rest of the supplies from the cars that we left stranded."

"We'll do that later. Right now, we need to find our people."

"And if we don't?" asked Michonne critically.

Glenn sighed and closed his eyes, his heart aching for Maggie.

"We keep looking until we find them…one way or another."

Michonne seemed content enough with Glenn's answer and began to pick her way down the riverside. The others followed along and looked for any sign that someone living had made their way out of the water.

The process was difficult and they didn't even know what they were to be looking for. Karen had been somewhat cooperative and said she made a big mess where she crawled out but then she essentially shut down and began a frantic search for her son. Michonne and Glenn wanted to follow everything they thought could be a track or trail and they found themselves being slowed substantially. They averaged a hundred yards an hour and after four hours, Glenn could see it on every face that they were discouraged by their lack of progress. He wanted to be thorough though and exploring every lead was their only option.

Michonne was walking at the front of the group when suddenly she held out her arm for Glenn to stop. She turned back to him and immediately he knew something was wrong.

"What is it?" he whispered against her ear. He could barely hear what sounded like something—or someone—moving about it the mud.

"There's a walker up ahead," she whispered back. Glenn raised an eyebrow and looked around Michonne. "It's Hershel."

Glenn's eyes fell upon the decaying body of Hershel who was half-crawling along the riverbank towards them. He was immediately sickened by it and wanted to believe it wasn't Hershel, but it was. It had the old man's face and beard. It was wearing the same clothes Hershel had been and missing a leg. The only difference was that he was dead. His face had begun to rot and the waterlogged skin sagged and pulled away from the body. His eyes were dead and his teeth now sought out the flesh of the living. Hershel was dead.

Walker Hershel growled loud enough for the entire group to hear and they jumped to pull their weapons out.

"Walker!" cried Carol and she went running to kill it.

"STOP!" yelled Glenn, making Carol pause in her tracks. The woman looked at him warily but backed down. Glenn didn't know how to break it to them, especially Beth, that they'd found one of the group. Except it wasn't really one of them anymore.

"We need to kill it," said Tyreese.

"I know," said Glenn. He looked to Beth and sighed.

Beth stared back at Glenn and her chest began to heave. He gave her a brief nod and she burst into tears.

"It's Hershel," he announced just loud for everyone to hear. "He didn't make it."

Instead of everyone falling apart, like Glenn expected, they all stood silently. Death had become a common occurrence and of those to be washed away, Hershel was the least likely to have survived it. It was the outcome they had all knew was coming and it softened the blow slightly.

Some of the women reached out to comfort Beth and Carol wrapped her in a tight hug.

"It's ok sweetie," whispered Carol. "It's going to be ok."

"I want Maggie," cried the girl.

"I know you do, we all do," said Carol as she looked to Glenn.

Glenn cleared his throat and looked back at walker Hershel.

"Do you want…Beth do you want to…"

"Just do it," sniffed Beth. "That's not my dad anymore. I don't want to see it."

Glenn nodded to Michonne and then went to Beth. He guided her a few steps away while Michonne stabbed Hershel in the head with her katana and finished him off for good. When Michonne returned, they all sat down and hugged each other, thankful they were still alive. Beth sat with Carol and continued to cry until she had no more tears left to shed. Karen, however, stood at the edge of the gathering and paced about anxiously awaiting to resume searching for her son.

Glenn was less anxious though. Karen had come back alive, but they had found Hershel turned. So far their success rate was at fifty percent. If he was going to be honest with himself, Glenn guessed Noah was also going to be found in about the same state as Hershel. That left Carl, Rick, Daryl, and Maggie.

Maggie had grown up with a pond on her farm and Glenn figured she was a decent swimmer although in a river like that, all bets were off. Rick and Daryl were both strong men and had the best chance out of any of them. Carl was a long shot, but either of the men would probably see to it that he was taken care of before them.

"We're going to find you guys," whispered Glenn. "We're going to find you."

* * *

Maggie tossed and turned all night. Her sleep was wracked with nightmares from the flood and walker herd. One minute she was watching helplessly as Glenn was being eaten alive, then next she was drowning with no one to save her. Then it was Beth drowning, and Hershel being eaten. Or she was had been bit trying to save Daryl who ended up dying as well. In her final dream, Maggie was down to her last bullet and running from several walkers. She was too exhausted to go any farther and stopped at the base of a tree. She knew they were going to catch up to her eventually and decided to end her life before they got to her. In her dream, Maggie put the gun to her head and just as she squeezed the trigger, her eyes shot open.

Maggie panted as she woke from her nightmare. She sat up quickly and broke into another coughing fit. It took all of her energy to focus on finding her next breath and when she was done, both her throat and her lungs burned. She leaned back into the pillows on the bed almost as exhausted as she'd been before she fell asleep.

As the fog in her head cleared and she came to her senses, she took stock of her surroundings. It was light outside, though not too bright meaning it was still relatively early in the morning. Daryl was in bed next to her and Maggie hoped that none of her coughing had disturbed him. He certainly needed all the rest he could get with his injured leg. However, she did feel that he should have at least asked if she was alright.

"Daryl?" she whispered, placing a hand on his arm.

Maggie flinched when her hand came into contact with his feverish skin.

"Daryl?" she asked again and gave him a shake. "Daryl, wake up."

A small groan escaped Daryl's lips and his head turned away from Maggie but other than that he did not stir.

"Daryl, please: I need you to wake up," urged Maggie. She turned his head back towards her and patted his cheek. Daryl's eyes opened slightly and he sagged into her hand. Maggie moved her hand up to his forehead and brushed his hair to the side: he was burning up.

"I'm going to take a look at your leg, ok?" she asked. Daryl nodded once and closed his eyes.

Maggie moved down to Daryl's legs and pushed the sheet covering them back. It didn't surprise her to see the area around the cut on his left leg red and swollen. If he was as hot as he was, it was a sure sign that it had become infected.

"Carl!" called Maggie.

A second later, Carl came bounding in the door, his hair a disheveled mess.

"What's wrong?" asked the boy.

"Daryl's running a fever…his leg is showing signs of an infection. I should have tried to find some antibiotics last night—he's got to get something in him now or he's not going to make it."

"What—what do we do?" asked Carl. "Everything we had was back with your dad."

Maggie sighed and looked around the small bedroom.

"Go get some water and start trying to cool him down—make sure he drinks some. I'll check around the trailer and see if there's anything."

Carl nodded and retreated to the kitchen for a bottle of water. When he returned, Maggie was already rummaging around the bathroom for any medicine. He heard cabinets being opened and things being banged around and sat on the bed next to Daryl. He twisted the cap of the bottle off and poured some onto a cloth. He folded it twice then laid it across Daryl's forehead.

"Daryl, you need to drink this," he said.

Daryl opened his eyes once he heard Carl speak and slowly looked the water bottle in Carl's hand. With Carl's help, he raised his head off the pillow and Carl brought the bottle to his mouth. Daryl slowly drank half the bottle and then rested his head back down. Carl took the washcloth off Daryl's forehead and wiped his chin where some of the water had dribbled out. He then added more water to it and placed it over his chest. Maggie returned a minute later with a small orange bottle in her hand.

"Did you find anything?" Carl asked.

"Yes…_Noroxin_: it's used more for UTIs but it will have to do…but there's only six left." Maggie sighed, opened the bottle, and shook two into her hand. She sat next to Daryl and took the water from Carl. "Here Daryl, this will help a little."

Daryl opened his mouth just enough for Maggie to place the pills on his tongue and then gave him a sip of water. He swallowed them down the groaned.

"What's wrong?" asked Maggie.

"Hurt's like a bitch," said Daryl.

"I know," said Maggie stroking his hair, "I know but we're going to find something to help that. Carl—" Maggie suddenly broke off into another cough that caused Daryl to fidget anxiously beside her.

"Ya alright?" he asked hoarsely.

Maggie covered her mouth as she coughed and tried to nod her head.

"No yer not…drink some of that water," ordered Daryl.

Maggie was able to catch a break between coughs and sipped on the water which seemed to help. Once she was done, she rubbed her throat and noticed that both Carl and Daryl we're looking at her worriedly.

"I'm fine," she assured them both.

"Bullshit," said Daryl. "Ya were coughin' like that last night."

"I'll _be_ fine," she corrected, turning her full attention to him. "Now, I want to clean your leg again."

"Do what ya gotta," said Daryl as he settled back down.

Carl handed Maggie the bottle of vodka. Daryl didn't need to be told that it was going to hurt and his whole body tensed. He balled his hands into the sheets and tried to keep his left leg as relaxed as possible. Instead of just drenching the wound like she'd done before, Maggie poured the alcohol onto one of the rags and dabbed it over the cut. Daryl gritted his teeth and shoved his head back into the pillow. His breathing grew faster and shallower until he finally gave in and moaned with the pain.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and squeezed his left hand. Daryl returned the squeeze and held tight to Maggie.

"Son of a bitch!" he suddenly yelled and his leg jerked as Maggie accidentally brushed an especially tender place. Daryl was instantly slicked in a warm sweat and his muscles twitched from trying to remain calm. His grip on her hand became crushing and she swore he was about to break several of her fingers.

"I'm almost done," said Maggie, hurrying.

"You're going to be ok," encouraged Carl. Daryl glared at the boy but other than that didn't say anything.

By the time Maggie had finished, Daryl's hold on her had loosened substantially and his breathing evened out.

"Is he out…"

"I think so," said Maggie.

"Is he going to make it?"

Maggie looked up to Carl and sighed.

"I don't know…he's going to need more antibiotics and something for the pain. There's nothing in here though."

"I can go out and look for some," offered Carl. "Like back at the prison when I found the stuff for your dad. I mean, I don't know what to do to help him so you should stay."

"Are you sure?" asked Maggie.

Carl nodded.

"Yeah…plus if you start coughing it could attract walkers. What am I looking for?"

"Anything that you can find. Just grab whatever you can: medicines, bandages, food, water…" Maggie stopped and looked about. "Carl, I can't send you out without a weapon."

Carl's face fell. He patted himself down and realized he didn't have anything on him.

"What about Daryl's knife?"

Maggie considered the idea for a minute and then nodded. She picked it up off the small bedside table and handed it to Carl.

"If you get into any trouble, and I mean _any_ trouble, you get out of there as fast as you can," she said still holding onto the knife. "Promise me."

"I promise," said Carl. Maggie looked at him skeptically but released the blade to him. As soon as he had it in his hand, he bolted for the door.

Maggie chuckled at his eagerness but also worried about sending him off alone. They had no chance to scout out the area and wouldn't know who or what was out there. The last thing they needed was for Carl to run into a herd and end up bringing them back to the trailer. They'd never get out alive if that happened. But Daryl was going to need more medicine if he had any chance at surviving.

Maggie arranged herself back next to Daryl and wiped the damp cloth over his chest and neck.

"You're going to beat this," she whispered, giving his forehead the lightest of kisses.

* * *

A/N: Wow…yeah that was really a long delay between updates and also not my best stuff. My family kinda threw a wrench into my writing and I almost flat-out deleted this story. Anyways…I'll try to get back on track soon.


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own AMC's and Robert Kirkman's "The Walking Dead" or any of its characters/places. There may be a few OCs at a later time and those will be mine. (NO MARY SUES).

**WARNINGS: **Rated T for language, violence, gore, and sexual situations.

* * *

_First of all, I want to thank everyone for their reviews. And a thank you goes out to **Candra 'wolfgal97**'who was awesome enough to not only get me a follow on twitter by David Della Rocco but also took a letter to Norman Reedus for me. She's so great :) Now, I'm sorry about the crazy long delay. I went out of town and it took me a long time to get caught up with everything back home. I'll be honest, I'm not too sure where this is headed at the moment so bear with me in the next chapter. I should have it all worked out by then. Thank you for understanding._

* * *

Maggie sat with Daryl and watched him sleep until hunger drove her from the bed. Carl had said something about there being food in the kitchen and she went to check it out. She opened the cabinets and set out the various containers she found: canned meats, beans, and a few fruits and vegetables. If they rationed it all properly, they could probably get by for two weeks with it. That would be pushing it however, and Maggie feared either she or Carl would have to venture out for more.

Maggie chose one of the cans of beans and opened it. She found a spoon and returned to Daryl. She sat next to him and began to eat: she'd had worse than a can of cold beans but the food hit her stomach wrong and turned it into a knotted ball. After she finished half the can she dug the spoon down into once more and then rubbed Daryl's arm to wake him. His eyes opened slowly and Maggie smiled gently.

"You need to eat something…here," she said and brought the spoon of beans over to him.

"Not hungry…" he said and pushed her hand back.

"Yes you are; you just don't know it. We have plenty; you have to eat to keep your strength up. Now sit up," commanded Maggie.

Daryl nodded weakly and tried to raise himself. Maggie assisted him and was able to get him to lean back against the headboard. He took the can of beans from her and spoon and Maggie went off to find another bottle of water. When she came back, Daryl had polished off the remainder of the can and reclosed his eyes.

"Thirsty?" asked Maggie.

Daryl shook his head.

"No—where's Carl…haven't heard him today…"

"He's uh…" Maggie flinched. Daryl was sure to give her hell if she told him she allowed the boy to go by himself and so poorly armed. "I sent him back down to the river to get some water to boil—he'll be back in a minute. I gave him your knife so he won't have any trouble."

"Shouldnta done that…" said Daryl. "Told y'all to go on—I ain't gonna make it. Ya need to go and find Rick and the others."

Maggie sighed and pressed her hand against Daryl's forehead to see how warm he was. His fever was still raging and she hoped once it broke he'd come to his senses.

"And I've told _you_ that we're staying here until you can walk. Once we get your leg better we will find the others. Speaking of which I think it's time for you to take some more pills," she said and dumped two more of the tablets into her hand.

Daryl heard the rattle of the bottle and turned on his side. "Save 'em," he muttered, "ya might need to use 'em on someone else."

"Stop being so damn stubborn Daryl: there's more than plenty if something happens to me or Carl."

It was a complete lie and Maggie saw that Daryl didn't buy it. He rolled his shoulder enough to show his indifference and brushed off Maggie's concern for him.

"Fine…I'll leave them here by you and you can take them when you feel like it," she said and stood. Almost immediately her stomach turned in circles and the blood drained from her head leaving her extremely dizzy. She tried to push it aside and stumbled as she was temporarily blinded by her lightheadedness. The edge of the bed tripped her up and she fell hard towards the dresser, her head striking the corner of it. She rolled off and to the floor where she told herself she was ok. Her hand went to her forehead and she pulled it back because it felt wet.

"_Why is my head wet?_" she wondered silently. "_Did I just wash my hair?_"

Maggie stared at her hand in wonder and was fairly certain someone else was speaking to her.

"I'm ok Glenn...I got some paint on me…nothing to worry about," she said and slid back against the dresser.

"That ain't paint and I ain't Glenn," said Daryl as he yanked the top sheet off the bed and wrapped it haphazardly around his waist. He knew his leg wasn't going to support his weight and he braced himself for the inevitable fall to the floor. Sure enough, as soon as the toes on his left foot touched the carpet, a flaming pain flared up in his injured leg and he collapsed. He landed near Maggie who didn't even register him falling down beside her.

"Glenn?" she asked and reached out her bloody fingertips to stroke Daryl's cheek. Daryl gently took them in his hand and pushed them back to her.

"Sure," he whispered, "just gonna look at ya for a minute…"

Maggie smiled to herself and closed her eyes.

"Don't be goin' to sleep or nothin' like that," said Daryl. He brushed some of her brown hair away from her forehead to find the source of the blood that was trickling over her right eye. He pried some of the soaked hair back to reveal a short but deep cut woven into her hairline. "_Shit_," he swore and reached for the sheet at his waist. He gripped the end and tore a long strip off. Daryl then split it in half and folded one of the pieces over in order to make the cloth thicker. He pressed it against Maggie's head then took the other piece and tied it over the first to secure the bandage in place.

"What's that for?" asked Maggie, reaching up to feel the cloth.

"Ya bumped yer head…ya think ya can stand?" asked Daryl.

"I don't see why not," said Maggie. She stood quickly and fumbled around on her feet. She seemed to aim herself towards the door and Daryl regretted his decision to get her up so fast.

Maggie found her way to the door and then out into the kitchen and living area. Daryl heard her bump into something and sighed.

"Maggie! Just sit down or somethin'…I'm gonna come get ya," he called.

Maggie didn't answer him and he realized she might have fallen down again. He flinched as he moved his bad leg under him and gripped onto the dresser to help pull him up. He made it to his feet, or foot, with his left leg dragging uselessly behind him. Daryl tried to move away from the dresser but couldn't bring himself to test his leg again.

"Ya still there Maggie?" he asked.

Daryl waited but again there was no answer.

"Ya got this," Daryl encouraged himself. He dropped the sheet as to have both hands available to support him if necessary. He looked down on himself and a tiny piece of him said that Glenn would kill him if he saw him tending to Maggie while he was completely undressed. He figured there was something in the dresser he could wear and pulled the top drawer open. In it he found a pair of boxers and somehow was able to maneuver himself into them. He didn't want to put a shirt on because he was miserably hot already but modesty got the best of him.

Once Daryl was decent, he let go of the dresser and balanced as best he could on one leg. He leaned against the wall and braced himself against it as he headed after Maggie. The pain in his leg was off the chart and more than once he considered just giving into it. When he made it to the door frame, he looked out and tried to see Maggie.

"Maggie—where the hell did ya go?" he asked the empty kitchen. Daryl struggled forward all the while sweat slicked his overheated body. The pain in his leg was so severe he thought a walker's bite would probably hurt less. He was half tempted to find one of those and allow it to finish him off. He remembered being given some pills earlier in the day but not what they were for. If they were to help with the pain, well, they weren't. If they were supposed to make his leg better, they weren't doing that either.

"Maggie, I really don't wanna come after ya…ya gotta tell me yer alright," said Daryl. He glanced around the kitchen and peered into the living room but there was no sign of her. "Damn it woman," he hissed and threw himself forward. The girl had vanished; the front door swinging in the afternoon breeze.

Daryl took a few more shaky steps for the door, his breath becoming harder and faster. He swore someone was digging red-hot nails into his leg but he had to find Maggie. He couldn't let her wander around out there if she wasn't able tell the difference between him and Glenn.

Every step was pure agony to Daryl after he had to abandon the wall. He only looked down at his leg once and that was more than enough. Not only was the whole gash swollen and red, but a deeper maroon color had emerged wherever a stitch entered his skin. They pulled whenever he put his foot down and he ignored the urge to rip the threads out. He had patched himself up enough to know when something was wrong and that something was screaming at Daryl that his leg was a lost cause.

"Ya can quit once ya get Maggie back," Daryl said to himself. "Get Maggie and Carl back then ya can stop."

Daryl made it to the door with sweat pouring off every possible inch of his body. He pushed against it and threw himself out into the fresh air. The breeze nipped at his leg and dug his fingers into his thigh to distract himself. The pain that caused was only secondary and Daryl sagged against the flimsy porch railing. He tried to catch his breath but a pressing tightness took hold of his chest and he couldn't get enough air. He gripped the railing as his heart rate shot up until it was fluttering unevenly under his ribs. Blood pulsed around his head making him dizzy and lose focus. His heart skipped and he no longer noticed the pain in his leg. Everything was fading. The rush in his ears was gone but so were the sounds from nature. He was vaguely aware of the wooden rail he was clinging to and then that feeling was gone too.

The weak handrail collapsed on Daryl and he tumbled off the side of the small porch and down to the muddy ground. In his last remaining bit of consciousness, Daryl groaned and rolled onto his back. He spit a glob of mud out of his mouth and couldn't quite wipe his mouth off before he passed out.


	7. Chapter 7

I'm really sorry I neglected this for so long. I've known where I wanted to go with it for quite a long time, but lack of motivation, work, family, and life stalled it. I'm really sorry and I hope you still enjoy it. It WILL NOT take more than a day or two for the next update, I promise. Thanks again everyone for the great reviews too! They served to get my fingers typing!

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Carl was having a decent morning despite the fact his father's whereabouts were unknown and his two remaining adult companions were either sick or injured. He couldn't think about his father, but he did. His thoughts drifted to Rick and all the possible fates that might've befallen him.

More than likely, he had drowned. The current in the river had been too strong for him or he'd been caught on something like Maggie or Daryl and gone under never to come back up. If he survived the river, and Carl knew it was a big if, he'd be completely unarmed and left to fend for himself. He knew his father would be too exhausted to fight with walkers or people. He'd be washed too far downstream for any from the group to find either. Hope was slim that Rick was still alive.

Without fully realizing it, Carl lowered his head. Now that he was out on his own, it gave him time to think. Back in the trailer, he'd been distracted enough by Daryl's injury and he put all thoughts of his father aside. But it wasn't just his father either—it was all of them. He might never see Judith again, or Michonne, Glenn, Tyreese, Beth…the list went on. Would the group come looking for them or assume they were dead? Should he and Maggie wait for Daryl to heal, if he could, and look for them? There were too many unknown variables and the different scenarios scrambled Carl's brain. He was left to face the present and make the best of the situation as it unfolded.

But his day had not been so unlucky so far. He'd rummaged through two trailers so far and found a decent load of supplies. There were various medicines that Maggie could hopefully make sense of and maybe something that would help Daryl. He grabbed a couple tins of canned meat and beans and stuffed them deep in his bag. He salvaged a flashlight with extra batteries but more importantly found an actual weapon. A gun.

He had to pull it from the hip of a walker he killed and it only came with four shots, but it made Daryl's hunting knife seem obsolete. It could save them if they got into a pinch with walkers, or with people. Carl took special care with the gun and fastened its holster around his own waist after making a new hole on the belt to accommodate his smaller size. He could protect them now, and he was proud of himself for it.

Carl sighed and opened the door of the third trailer he was going to search. He opened the door a mere crack and was slammed in the face by the putrid smell of rotting corpses. It was the worst he'd ever come across and he immediately closed the door; the back of his hand pressed to his mouth to keep from gagging. He looked about and saw six cars parked nearby and figured an entire family must've come together and subsequently died in the same trailer. Even if they were all truly dead, Carl wasn't going to risk it. Whatever was inside the trailer was not worth risking releasing a small herd.

"Good enough," said Carl quietly and he stepped down. He decided he'd return to his trailer and would then plan on making another run after he dropped off the supplies he had procured. He could certainly tell Maggie about the cars and bring her back to see if any of them still ran. Six cars? One of them had to work.

Carl walked back towards the trailer as his supplies bounced along with him. He shifted the bag from one arm to the other but then looked about: he could hear someone crying in the distance. The sobs were too pitchy to be from a man and Carl's pace quickened. He sped on and found the tree the cries seemed to be centered from. Stepping around the side, he discovered Maggie bawling into her hands.

"_Maggie?_" he asked at first.

Maggie looked up at Carl with blood and tears rolling down her face.

"Maggie! What happened?" he asked, dropping the bag and kneeling beside her.

"I don't know," she sobbed hysterically. "I don't know. I don't know, I don't know what happened. I don't know where anyone is."

Maggie went to run her hands over her head and Carl grabbed them and pulled them down.

"What did you do to your head?" he asked.

"I don't know!" she yelled back. "Damn it, I don't remember anything!"

Maggie's exclamation startled Carl briefly but he quickly composed himself to take charge of the situation.

"Ok…it's going to be ok. You know who I am, right?"

Maggie nodded her head.

"You're Carl," she said and wiped away a tear.

"So that's like good…what about your boyfriend, what's his name?" asked Carl.

Maggie pressed her eyes closed while her lips trembled.

"Glenn," she said certainly. "Then there's Rick and Daryl…"

"But you're not dating them too; that'd make you a slut," said Carl teasingly. Maggie laughed gently and smiled.

"No but I'm not married yet so I can still look," she said and winked.

Carl laughed too for a moment before getting back to business: Maggie was out on her own and clearly not completely with it; something had happened.

"Can you remember anything from today?" he asked. "Do you know what happened to your head or where Daryl is?"

"Daryl?" she asked and closed her eyes again. "He's with Rick, isn't it?"

"Let's hope not," said Carl. Maggie's brow crinkled as she didn't quite understand Carl's remark. Carl sighed and then stood up. He took in the rest of Maggie's appearance and she didn't look too bad. He decided she and Daryl hadn't been attacked and maybe it was an isolated incident where she had fallen and hit her head. She was confused enough for that to be the case though Carl guessed he wouldn't get much of a decent explanation out of her. Carl extended a hand to help Maggie up and then steadied her.

"I'm ok," Maggie said though she continued to press her hand against the bandage on her head.

"Does it hurt?" asked Carl.

"Yes," answered Maggie.

Carl set his bag down in order to open it up. He dug through it and eventually pulled out a faded bottle of Tylenol. He shook out two pills and then offered them to Maggie.

"Sorry I don't have any water," he then said.

"Thank you," said Maggie with a warm smile and a small, understanding nod.

"Are you dizzy or anything?" asked Carl.

"Oh yes," Maggie said with a sigh. "I think that was why I stopped that or I didn't know where I was going."

"Why'd you leave the trailer in the first place?" raised Carl. "Did something happen with Daryl? Did he get worse?"

Carl saw the panic spread across Maggie's face.

"Daryl? He was hurt, wasn't he? _Oh shit_…I—I just left him there!" Maggie pushed away from Carl and lunged in the direction opposite the way to the trailer. Carl reached out just in time and snagged her elbow to pull her back.

"This way," he said, picking up his bag of supplies and leading her down the correct path.

They traveled quickly despite Carl readjusting the bag every few steps and Maggie not being able to walk in a straight line. Barely five minutes later, the trailer came back into view. Maggie's pace quickened and Carl was forced to throw his arm out again to rein her in.

"_Walker_," he whispered and pointed towards the corner of the building.

"It's just one; I think we can sneak by it," said Maggie. The walker ignored the two and continued in a determined manner for the area around the door.

"Wait…something's not right," said Carl. He studied the side of the trailer and scanned it back and forth. It looked different somehow. He obviously hadn't taken the time to memorize its appearance but knew something was out of place.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Maggie asked, her concern growing.

Carl bit his lip and tilted his head to the side.

"The front door looks different," he finally decided.

"No," said Maggie though she sounded unsure.

Carl huffed briefly and was still sure something wasn't right though he couldn't put his finger on it. He went on watching the walker as it approached the trailer and then dropped to the ground. Its growls increased like it was going to feed on something and then Carl realized what was wrong.

Daryl was on the ground.

Initially he had mistaken the man for a dirty piece of the house that had fallen away, but walkers were not drawn to pieces of wood or metal. Now that Carl knew what he was looking at, Daryl's shape was easier to distinguish though he was covered in mud. The walker reached out for Daryl and Carl realized he couldn't waste another second. He pulled the pistol from his hip, pointed it at the walker's head, and pulled the trigger.

Carl's shot went wide and sank into the side of the trailer.

The noise from the gun and the bullet impacting the siding were enough to distract the walker from Daryl momentarily. It slowly turned its head so that the man's glazed eyes fell somewhere between Maggie and Carl. It growled at the pair of them and then returned its attention to Daryl.


End file.
